In
the Circus of You: An Illustrated Novel-in-PoemsNicelle Davis and Cheryl Gross. Rose Metal Press, $14.95 paperback (104p) ISBN: 978-1-9416280-0-3
In elementary school, I anticipated
my school’s annual book fair. I didn’t
have my eyes set on The Babysitters Club
series or the sticker collection books or even the new Magic Eye
calendars. I was set on the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark
series, written by Alvin Schwartz and illustrated by Steve Gammell. They were full of urban legends and folktales,
creepy and ironic with a hint of dark humor.
The accompanying drawings often had the same humor, but there was a darkness
that always unnerved me. The bodies were
disproportioned. Everything was dripping
or hairy, those stray hairs in just the wrong place.
I hadn’t thought about the series in
maybe decades until I read Rose Metal Press’ latest release In the Circus of You: An Illustrated Novel-in-Poems. Each poem by Nicelle Davis has an accompanying
sketch by Cheryl Gross. While each also
has a spark of humor, the book is dark.
Rather than urban legend, poems and illustrations focus on the circus,
on freaks and clowns. The circus is a
metaphor for adult fears: the end of a marriage, the trials of motherhood, the
struggles of knowing and being yourself.
Davis’ poems take many forms, from
traditional stanza to prose poem to hourglass shaped poems. They seek to disturb and surprise and are at
their most successful when the surprise is visceral and grounded. In “On It’s Haunches,” the speaker places her
head inside a poodle’s mouth (not a lion’s) and watches as a neighborhood boy
is tricked into eating worms: “…What are you/looking at? He asks me.
Kicks the dog. Yelp folds into bite./My face is a circle of puncture. The boy
calls me, Freak.” In the
found poem “My Understanding of Love from a Man—or—The Rubber Boy (born the
same year as I, 1979),” we’re told the story of famous sideshow contortionist
who, “Dislocates hips and shoulders./Carefully rearranges ribs. Drops
heart/below sternum. So an audience can/watch it beating.”
Gross’ sketches interpret the poems
literally, while adding an extra level of the grotesque. The characters are bloated. The skin is full of folds. Spines are coiled and hooked. Body parts are replaced by wheels.
While the book is full of
imagination and surprise, the extended metaphor was sometimes too much for this
reader, especially when I was pulled too far from the concrete. There were times when I wanted more of the real,
which might’ve been more disturbing than the figurative
clowns or dead birds. But the stories of
famous sideshow freaks and their renderings in both verse and drawing kept this
scary story enthusiast turning the pages.
(March 2015)
Purchase In the Circus of You HERE.
